Unburdening Oneself
by EstiRose
Summary: Sometimes, you can only be there for someone. Post-series futurefic, set in the "Harder to Be Brave" universe. Mentions of suicidal ideation. Last part of the main "Harder to be Brave" storyline.


_I realized, as I was looking over my stories in preparation for leaving the site, that I never did post this story, the coda to the "Harder to be Brave" stories. _

_So, this is my last posted story here, and I hope that it is a nice finale to both this storyline and to my time at the site. I will miss you all – but my profile will direct you where to go, especially if you're following one of my unfinished fics._

**Unburdening Oneself  
>by Estirose<br>c 2011**

"Mr. Ziggy?"

Ziggy Grover looked up as he finished some paperwork. Lydia Stevenson was standing at the door of his office. "I'm sorry to bother you, but..."

He had first met Lydia at Ms. Robinson's orphanage before she'd been adopted, and she'd later become one of his students, until she'd gone on to middle school. She was a nice girl, but insecure and sensitive, and he'd done the best he could to boost her confidence. Right now, the middle-schooler's eyes were red-rimmed, and it wasn't any surprise that she'd run to someone she'd trust if she was upset.

"It's all right. Want to sit down?" he asked, indicating the other chair in the room. His wife was working on other things; he was supposed to meet her in a bit, but the students always came first.

"Thanks," she said. She sniffled.

He pushed a box of tissues towards her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I... I want to kill myself, Mr. Ziggy." She looked at him as if she was expecting him to freak out. Which he didn't, of course.

He stayed silent, letting her continue, her sentence punctuated with sobs and hiccups. "It's just... I'm so bad at schoolwork, and I don't have any friends, and..."

"And you want to die." He'd had training on how to deal with suicidal kids; in some ways, it was tougher than when Dillon and the others had had to deal with him, all those years ago.

"Yeah." She looked at him with sad, tired eyes. "I do."

"Wanna talk about it?" he invited again.

"I don't want to burden you with how stupid I am," she said, blowing her nose and looking down at her shoes. "I'm a failure; I can't ever be what anyone wants me to be."

He watched her, thinking of how he'd felt when he'd first become a Ranger, and thinking it was such a good idea to die in order to force a new Ranger Green.

She didn't elaborate further, just looked at him. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Dillon had almost made that mistake once, with him. A curious Summer had put paid to that rather fast.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." She looked at him with fearful eyes, but at least she didn't get up or run or anything like that. "I mean, if someone had made me that promise, I might not be here right now."

He could see the gears in Lydia's mind turning as she realized what he meant. "You?" she asked, eyes widening.

Ziggy was sure this was not in the manual for how to deal with a suicidal person, but if it distracted her, then maybe she could think a bit straighter. "Yeah."

"B-but you were a Ranger..." Like most of Corinth, she tended to see their heroic side, as figures, not as imperfect human beings.

"Yeah. I tried to kill myself the night after becoming one." He sat back in his chair. "And unlike you, I didn't tell anyone because I was too afraid to. So, you're doing better than I did."

"But you're here now."

"Yeah. My friend Dillon kind of figured it out, and told the others. Not on purpose, but he did. And I was kind of upset about it at the time. But it turned out okay after all."

"Mr. Ziggy, why did you want to kill yourself?" Lydia asked. At least she was focusing on his past instead of her pain. All he had to do was give her some way to cope until he could get her to see a doctor.

"Well, I... kind of became a Ranger by accident. The other Rangers and my boss weren't very happy about it, and because of the way the morphers work, I couldn't just hand it off to someone else, I was stuck with it. I couldn't fight and I thought they had a pretty low opinion of me, and I couldn't live with that, so I decided dying would be a good thing."

She sat there, listening raptly, the occasional snuffle notwithstanding. "I couldn't tell anyone because I thought that they'd hate me even more for being weak because I wanted to die," he continued. "But I thought they'd be happy I was gone. Well, except Dillon. Turns out that it wasn't true with the others, either." That was the understatement of the decade. "They were there for me, gave me help, got me through it. I know it sounds like some greeting card movie, but yeah. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my teammates being there."

"I don't have any friends, though," Lydia said. "Would anybody care? I can't seem to remember things, no matter how hard I try. I can't keep up on things. No matter how hard I try, I'm always failing."

"But I'm sure you have people who love you," Ziggy said. "People you might not expect." He took a deep breath. "Give it some time. Talk to a doctor. Talk to your parents."

She shook her head, wiping at her tears. "I... can't. But I had to let somebody know..."

"I'm glad you decided to trust me," Ziggy assured her. "But really, I think you're stronger than you think. And you have more people that love you than you know." He'd learned that really well in his first days. Being on suicide watch for nearly a week before they took him off connected him to his team in ways he hadn't expected. "Promise me something."

"I don't think I should... but I'll try." She looked at him.

"Make me the same promise to me that my teammate Flynn made me promise him." It wouldn't be the exact same thing, but it would come close. "If you ever feel like this, talk to someone. Me, if you need to. I can't promise to keep it secret... but I can help. I'll help now, if you want me."

"I... I can promise that," she said quietly, hiccuping. "I don't think things will get better, but..." She looked up at him. "I don't know if I can ask that of you."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," Ziggy said. "You want me to talk to your folks? Or do you want to go to the hospital?"

"Did you have to go, Mr. Ziggy?" she asked suddenly.

"No, but I very nearly did," Ziggy told her. "I could have. Maybe I should have."

He could see his wife pausing in the hallway and wondered if he should shoo her away or if that would draw attention to her. "I guess if a Ranger was suicidal... and got through it... I can get through it too." She looked at him, wiping a tear. "But... um. I want to tell my folks, if that's okay, Mr. Ziggy. By myself."

"Do you think you can do it?" Ziggy asked gently.

"I... it's going to be hard, but I'll try. But will you be here if I fail?" she asked.

He nodded. "I will. I'll be here for you."

She sniffled, and swallowed a sob that threatened to turn into a hiccup. "I guess I'll go, then." She got up.

"You don't have to, if you don't want." He didn't want her to feel like she had nobody to turn to, until she realized she had plenty of people to turn to.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ziggy." She looked at him, wiping at tears futilely again. "But I want to be as brave as you."

"I guess being willing to be helped is a kind of bravery," he said. "Think about it. And if you need me... I'll be here." Behind her, his wife slipped away from the door.

Watching Lydia leave, he forced himself not to slump, to stay strong-looking, in case she came back.

"I believe that one is supposed to debrief after encountering a suicidal person," his wife said, coming in the door. Heck, she was familiar with what to do, thanks to what they'd gone through those years ago.

"Yeah." He rubbed his face. "I think so." He watched as she took Lydia's vacated chair. "That brings up memories..."

"Indeed," she said. "You caused us much distress that day. All of us."

She still spoke formally, despite everything, using big words. It was funny how they'd ended up together, the super genius and the "stupid" ex-Cartel member. But he wouldn't give her up for anything, and he'd like to think she felt the same way.

"Yeah. Sorry." By the time she came out of her hiding place, he'd been going to therapy on a semi-regular basis and had never thought to ask her about it. There were too many crises going on, too much training and testing to ask how she'd felt about the issue. Besides, it had taken a long time for him to realize that they were in love with each other. "I never really asked how you felt."

"Irritated that you hadn't indicated that you were in such distress. Upset that you'd consider death to be an acceptable solution to your problem." She paused for a moment. "And also irritated because I wanted to know why the bond happened at the time." She looked at him. "I know why now."

That brought a smile to his face. "Yeah." He was aware that it was an absolutely silly smile, but he didn't care. As he'd told Lydia, he knew people cared about him. "But it turned out okay in the end."

"Certainly, given that I modified your morpher to detect such distress in the future and alert me."

"That would explain why I wasn't ever allowed to take my morpher off after that," he realized. He'd been wearing a combination locator and mood detector for the rest of his time as a Ranger. Not that he blamed her.

"Correct." She sighed. "I'm going to go and take care some bureaucratic issues. I trust if you need to unburden yourself, you know where to find me."

"I do, thanks," he said, giving her a smile. "I keep by my promises."

"I know." Her tone softened a little. "You always do. Even when it causes you pain."

But she didn't go into that. She merely gathered her paperwork and left, leaving him to his thoughts and hopes and prayers that Lydia would be all right. That he would be all right.

Because, somewhere out there, everyone was loved.


End file.
